


Scarecrow

by Fox_Salz



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Tumblr Prompt, fiddauthor - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 16:24:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11650317
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_Salz/pseuds/Fox_Salz
Summary: Stanford made Fiddleford a surprise.





	Scarecrow

**Author's Note:**

> This was a halloween prompt I filled last year, and am just getting around to posting here for posterity. I have the distinct impression no one expected this.

Fiddleford had been brewing a fresh batch of coffee when Stanford popped his head into the kitchen and asked for a strand of his hair. 

“Not if’n ya plan on makin’ another voodoo doll.”

“I assure you that was an accident.”

“Stanford, how can you accidentally make a voodoo doll of someone?”

Ignoring the question entirely he said, “I need a strand with root intact, please.”

Fiddleford rolled his eyes. None-the-less he caved in. “Well, since you asked so nicely.”

He let out a little yelp as Stanford rushed over in a flash and plucked out a strand of hair. Fiddleford rubbed the sore spot, casting him a glare.

“And here I was about to compliment ya on yer manners.”

“Thanks, Fidds, you’re the best! You won’t regret this!”

An hour later and Stanford was already straining that promise.

He had eagerly called Fiddleford into the other room, and when Fiddleford went in he saw Stanford cradling something in his arms as though it was a very small child. 

Which, in a way, it apparently was.

“I know you miss Tate, and how you’ve cooed over the new babies in town, so I thought you might like this. Fiddleford, meet our child.”

Stanford held the child out for him to hold. Automatically he took the thing, cradling it as carefully as he would any human child. Which this was not.

It looked up at him with curious button eyes. Then a little straw hand reached up to poke his face. 

“Stanford, am I holding a sentient scarecrow?”

“Indeed. Brought to life using both our DNA.” Stanford grinned wide at him, in a way that Fiddleford had to admit was dazzling and made him look quite boyishly handsome enough to almost forget he had made a black magic baby without consulting Fiddleford.

“Stanford,” Fiddleford said slowly, “we could have just adopted.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Fiddleford. Where could we have possibly adopted a sentient scarecrow?”

Fiddleford let out a long sigh.

“I get to name the little fella.”


End file.
